I'll Never Say Goodbye To You
by catchingthegirlonfire
Summary: Amy has vivid dreams about the Doctor, ones Rory doesn't understand. She has an inkling they're real, but there's no way to prove it. She longs to be reunited with her Raggedy Man, just one more time. Are these dreams merely dreams or is reality bleeding through?


"Rory!" I call, in a panic, "Wake up, now!"

"Amy, it's two o'clock in the morning, go back to sleep," he says, rolling over, turning his back to me.

"Rory, I saw the Doctor," I say, in disbelief, "It felt so real."

"That's how dreams feel, Amy. I mean, you and I know that the best," he says, "The Dreamlord, remember?"

"Of course I remember, you idiot!" I say, "Do you want to hear about my dream or not?"

"Fine," he sighs, rolling over to face me, "What happened?"

"I saw it," I say.

"Saw what?" Rory asks, impatient with me, wanting to go back to sleep.

"The crack from my bedroom wall when I was a little girl," I say.

Rory sits up and says, "Amy, that crack's long gone. The Doctor closed it when he restarted the universe. Remember? I was there, waited 2,000 years. Then there was something about a fez and the sun. It's all a bit fuzzy now."

"Right, I kind of know that, I was there too, you know," I say, "But that's not it."

"It was like I was there, in that room, watching, just watching," I add, "The Doctor said he always knew it wasn't over. Like he was waiting for it to come back."

"So you're missing the Doctor, that's all, it's understandable. You've spent practically forever with him," Rory says.

"No, Rory, this was different. I'm not so sure it was a dream," I say, sitting up alongside him, "There was something about the crack, like it was back, pulling me back to him."

"Fine, Amy, what happened next," Rory says, humoring me.

"He said it was a split in the skin of reality. A sliver of June the 26th, 2010, the day the universe blew up," I say, pausing, "He said it was a structural weakness in the whole universe."

"Rory, he said something was trying to get through," I add.

"Huh. What, you think it's us?" Rory laughs.

"Huh," I mock him, "Of course not, stupidface! Besides, he said who was coming through."

"Then who was it? Prisoner Zero?" he asks.

"Gallifrey," I say, looking to him, "The timelords are coming back."

"Well," I add, "If he answers one question."

"And that is?" he asks.

"Doctor, who?" I say, "It repeated, over and over, always asking the same question. If the Doctor reveals his name, the timelords will come back."

"That's stupid, the Doctor wouldn't even tell us his name. You honestly think he's going to whisper it into a crack from your bedroom wall?"

"Why shouldn't he?" I ask, "If the timelords come back, the Doctor can come back for us, pick us up with a different TARDIS."

"Amy, I don't think it works like that, besides, we're doing well here," he says.

"I know, but I'd like nothing more than to see Leadworth one more time," I say, "I never really appreciated what we had."

"We can go to Leadworth tomorrow if we want," he says, "We can take a vacation, or even move back."

"It's not the same, you know what I mean," I say, "I had all of time and space, anywhere I wanted to go, and now if I had one more time, one more trip in the TARDIS, I'd have it take me home."

"I know, but it's unrealistic to think that this is really happening. It's all in your head, you're going to have to let it go. You're going to have to let him go," he says.

I turn away from him, slamming my head back on the pillow, "Oswin was there, if you care. Well, I think it was Oswin. She had her voice, but he kept calling her Clara."

"Looks like the Doctor's moved on, and so should you," he says, touching my arm, "Amy…"

"Don't touch me," I say, brushing him off, "If you don't believe me, that's fine, but I know it's true, it's all true."

"I'm sorry, Amy, I just don't see it," he says, "But I'm sure you know the Doctor better than I do. I guess there's nothing to do now but try to sleep, if we wait, he'll come."

"I'm tired of waiting," I breathe into my pillow, "I thought my days of running with the Doctor were over, but I'm not quite finished yet. I miss him. Rory, don't get me wrong, I love you, I love New York, we have a beautiful life, but I just can't let him go. I have to believe he's out there, saving the universe, but most of all, I have to hope he hasn't forgotten about us, you know?"

I turn over to look at Rory as a tear slides down my cheek. Rory wipes it away and breathes my name. "Oh Amy," he says, "The Doctor will never forget about you."

"You think so?" I ask, trying to calm myself down.

"Yeah," Rory says, "That's why he kept coming back to us."

"I guess we'll never know what goes on in that time head," I say, breathing, "Oh Raggedy Man, I remember you. It worked once, it can work again. Let me see you just one last time."

I close my eyes and try to fall asleep, he exists now only in my dreams. As I begin to fade away I see stars, beautiful, shining stars, all around me. I drift, bodiless, through space and time, seeping through the walls of the TARDIS, and towards my Raggedy Man.

The squish of his familiar boots makes me smile, if I'm even capable of that in this state. Nonetheless, I quietly observe him, taking in all the moments I know are reality. He was my Raggedy Doctor, I was his Pond, and he's been brought back to me. Just like I always knew he would.

"Doctor!" Clara exclaims, taking a few steps towards him.

"Hello," he says flatly, not his usual self.

"You're young again," she says, "You're okay! You didn't even change your face!"

The Doctor laughs, rubbing his hands together, "It's started, I can't stop it now, this is just the reset," he says, rushing towards the TARDIS console, "A whole new regeneration cycle, ooph."

I call out to him as he sips custard from a bowl full of fish fingers, but he can't hear me. He _does _remember us, fish fingers and custard. Clara laughs at him, not fully understanding the meaning. I guess he never told her. Regardless, it's good he's got someone new to travel with. I never thought he'd be alone for long. And I hope he never is again.

"It's taking a bit longer," he says, setting the bowl aside, "I'm just breaking it in."

"Breaking what in?" I ask, but no one answers me.

I'm alone in this place, just an observer. All I want to do is throw my arms around him, give him the goodbye I wish I had. The Doctor groans and moans, in pain, as he pulls levers on the console. I hadn't realized until now, _he's regenerating._

I look above me, all around, the TARDIS is brand new, and old at the same time. A familiar sight catches my eye, my own name. The TARDIS still translates for me in my head, after all this time, all this space between us. The names of all the Doctor's companions spin above him in a halo of light above his head. He always said that his companions were the best of him, I think he's wrong. He's always been the best of us.

"It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror," he says, "Any moment now, he's a-coming."

"Who's coming?" Clara asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

"The Doctor," he says.

"You," she says, "You _are_ the Doctor."

"Yep," he says, "And I always will be."

"But times change, and so must I," he adds.

Yellow light explodes around his hands and I can't help but think of that day in Lake Silencio, and how I wished I could go to him, be with him while he died. I wish things were back to square one, and I was a hopeful little girl, waiting outside in her garden to whiz about space in a blue box.

In an instant my perspective shifts, I am that little girl, surrounded by color and light, my drawings. I run up the stairs, laughing, Amelia Pond in the TARDIS, just like I always wanted. He calls out my name but I can't turn. I laugh and keep running, as if it were any other day, any other game.

"Who's Amelia?" Clara asks, causing my heart to sink.

I suppose this is a dream, I'm not really here. Nonetheless, I'll make the most of it. If this is the Doctor's last moments, I want them to be happy.

"The first face this face saw," he says, as I keep running, a better version of myself, without a care in the world.

My perspective shifts, I'm omniscient once more. I scream, cry, as loud as I can. All I want to do is go to him, as my proper self, and really be there.

"We all change, when you think about it, we're all different people all through our lives," he says, "And that's okay. That's good. You've gotta keep moving. So long as you remember who you used to be."

I know he's talking about himself, he has to be, but I can't help but seek solace in his words. I've changed since I was a little girl, but that's not a bad thing. I realize now I don't want to be back at square one, but back where my real life is, with Rory, with everything. Just because things have changed now, doesn't mean they're bad or unwelcome. Everything happens for a reason, that's what the Doctor taught me. He told me in that art gallery that day that _every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. _And the Doctor definitely added to my pile of good things.

I'm ready, finally ready to let him go. I was wrong, it was never "Raggedy Man, goodbye", it's never goodbye, so long as you have your good memories to look back on. The Doctor's changing his face, so, things change everyday. So just like the good things that have happened since the Doctor came into my life, I'll put my Raggedy Man to sleep.

"I will not forget one line of this, not one day, I swear," he says, regaining his old personality, "I will always remember when the Doctor was me."

My feet hit the TARDIS steps just like they always had, just as if I had never left. I run my arm down the railing, feeling the coolness, but also the TARDIS's heartbeat, her engines raging at the Doctor's change. He looks to me with his big sad eyes, wonderstruck.

I walk to him, solemnly, but not sad. It's not a time for tears, for sadness. It's a time for remembrance, for celebration. I smile, looking into his eyes one last time, studying every inch of his beautiful face. "Raggedy Man," I say, beaming, finally reunited.

I put my hand to his cheek and feel his warmth. _He's real, definitely, incredibly real._ Rory was wrong. This isn't a dream. This is a gift, a wonderful gift. He touches my hair and cheek, feeling me too. _He knows, he sees me. _Who cares if nobody else does, they don't have faith enough to make it real.

I admit I have little time to consider my words carefully, he'll burst with regeneration any second. _Raggedy Man, Goodbye_, I think I said, in that horrible graveyard. Oh Raggedy Man, I'll never say goodbye to you, not really. I'll always see you in my dreams. "Goodnight," I say, letting him rest, running my hand down his chin for the last time.


End file.
